Last Man Standing
by Misty3
Summary: Based on "Millenial Visions". What if YOU were the last man alive?


Author's Note and Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, and I wouldn't want to. So there, thhp. :P Now, this is an extension on 'Millennial Visions'. To all you fan fic writers out there, I suggest you check it out, it's a relative plethora (big word) of ideas. Oh, all right. The pictures are cool too. Bad words, but other than that this is a rather ahem gentle piece. Kindly forgive any punctuation errors.  
  
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Last Man Standing  
by Misty  
  
USERNAME: LOGAN  
PASSWORD: LION'S DEN  
  
My name is Logan. I'm writing this in hopes that someone will read it sometime in the future. That, and I desperately need something to take my mind off this overwhelming silence where the humming of life was before I awoke to * this*. Well, this should make the Professor happy, or at least it would if he weren't dead. Oh, yeah, they're all sure to get a kick outta this: tough ol' Logan keeping a fucking *journal*. Enjoy yer laughter while you can boys, those pearly gates won't protect you forever.  
  
Anyways, I think I'd better start at the beginning and work my way to now, just to make things clear. Bare with me, I slept through all of those computer classes that Cyke and Kitty gave. Damn machines. Okay, history in a nutshell...  
  
LOGDATE 16 JAN 2002: The Avengers and other heroes disappear on the far end of the universe to fight the Kree-Daedemon War. The X-men stay behind because, well, because we weren't asked to go. They thought they could handle it by themselves. Thor returns to Earth alone, only to retreat back to Asgard, spouting tales of death and blood and revenge. He's never heard from again. Without the heroes to safeguard them, the public panics, fearing both another alien invasion and the 'superbeings' left on planet.  
  
LOGDATE 27 JAN 2002: President John Jameson visits Genosha on the platform of global unity. He is brutally assassinated during the middle of his speech on national television. The culprits are never found.  
  
LOGDATE 28 JAN 2002: Mutants around the world shudder as Vice President Graydon Creed assumes command of the United States.  
  
LOGDATE 14 NOV 2002: When Creed's anti-mutant hysteria reaches far beyond anything Hoover ever dreamt up, The Legion of Evil Mutants, led, ironically, by Sabretooth and Mystique, declares war on the President. Guess they decided to finally do something about their domestic problems. The Gene War begins.  
  
LOGDATE 22 MAR 2003: After months of stalemates, Creeds scientists develop an airborne poison designed to exterminate all mutant life on Earth. They call it the M-Toxin.  
  
LOGDATE 1 APR 2003: The M-Toxin is released in downtown New York, and subsequently the world.  
  
LOGDATE 2 APR 2003: The next day, sixteenth the population of the globe dies, including Magnus Lensher, Professor Charles Xavier, and President Creed himself. Boy shoulda known better, coming from who he did. Maybe hate is a genetic trait.  
  
LOGDATE 2 APR 2003: Chaos and anarchy ensues.  
  
LOGDATE 22 DEC 2003: Governments the world over collapse, and the world becomes decimated by nuclear holocaust.  
  
LOGDATE 16 JAN 2054: Fifty-two years later, to the date, I awake from a very long sleep. I found myself buried under what was left of the mansion, my healing factor keeping me alive through both the M-Toxin and the radiation poisoning of the nuclear wars. Searching through the rubble, I find the underground layers of the mansion untouched and intact. To my horror, I find the corpses of my teammates, in varying levels of decomposition, laying throughout the complex. Apparently, even this bunker could only hold out for so long. I bury them in the barren field overlooking the wasted lake, memories of happier times clouding my mind.  
  
LOGDATE 21 JAN 2054: I have been awake now for almost a week, and we come to the point of introduction. Understand everything so far? I don't. I refuse to believe that there is no one left, and I intend to find whoever may still be out there. Played with what was left of Cerebro and figured out the date. That's how I know what day it is if ya were wondering. I have foraged as much unspoiled food and water as I can carry, and am taking it with me. I found this computer in Beast's lab. The smell of that place was hideous. He must have been in the middle of one of his experiments when...What did happen to them I wonder? Was it the toxin? The radiation? I take it back, I don't want to know.  
  
After clearing away the cobwebs, I decided to use this little thing to my greater advantage. Hank's notes are still filed in here somewhere, so feel free to read those to yer hearts content later.  
  
My plan is simple, travel the globe until you find something. Then...I'll figure that out once I come to it. I'll report my findings in later entries.  
  
LOGDATE 22 JAN 2054: Leaving the mansion for what may be the last time, I begin my search for life.  
  
LOGDATE 04 FEB 2054: I find very little.   
  
LOGDATE 15 DEC 2054: Have reached western seaboard. Absolutely nothing. Will keep trying.   
  
LOGDATE 23 AUG 2057: Was cleaning out my pack today and found this thing. Hadn't realized it's been so long since I last updated it. Life's settled into a routine: I get up, I walk, I eat, I sleep. Still nothing. Am heading into what was Eastern Canada. Hope I don't get too homesick.  
  
LOGDATE 19 APR 2062: Memories getting spotty. It's hard to remember things about before. I remember how clear and blue lakes were, and I remember the sound of Jubilee's laugh. It's other things I can't recall, like where Madripoor is on the map. Isn't that funny? I practically own the island and now I don't even know where it is. Do ya think this is what happened to my memory, instead of the Weapon X Project? I simply got too old and my mind started dumping stuff I didn't need? Exactly how many times has this happened? Oh, Christ, I'm starting to sound like a whiny ass Summers ain't I? I'll never know the answers to those questions, so I might as well stop asking 'em.   
  
LOGDATE 02 JUN 2069: Realized how stupid taking this thing with me was. Who's gonna read this if no one's alive to find it?  
  
LOGDATE 30 FEB 2070: I think I know why I wanted to bring this on my quest. I must've known deep down that I'd forget, and this is one of the only ways keeping me from disregarding what I'm doing out here, who I'm doing it for. I can't really remember what the Professor looked like, but I know he was real.  
  
I sometimes dream of 'em, you know. I dream of a gorgeous red head, a man with a visor on his eyes (Cyke?), an Asian teenager bubbling with energy and many others, enough to fill a whole picture album. Sometimes I remember who they were, and sometimes I don't. I want to write them all down so that they don't get lost forever...  
  
LOGDATE 1 MAR 2071: I had a nightmare last night. A beautiful Japanese woman held me in her arms and called me her "beloved". She told me not to worry, she would always be there and that she waited for me. I woke up in a cold sweat, tears streaming from my eyes. I wonder who she was?  
  
LOGDATE 21 APR 2071: I saw a plant today. It was a sickly looking thing, an unhealthy yellow-green shade of fern. I was tempted to pick it up and take it with me but stopped myself short of just looking. It needed to grow, and make more of itself. What is the half-life of this radiation anyway?  
  
LOGDATE 13 NOV 2073: Weird birds things flew overhead a minute ago. Looked something like pterodactyls only with feathers. Decided to follow to see what they eat. This is very bizarre. Like watching evolution backwards.  
  
LOGDATE 23 AUG 2073: I heard a sound other than running water today. I hurriedly followed the trail and came upon a group of men. Primal, savage men. They appeared to be nomadic, following the bird things- the "Kith" I call 'em, don't ask why- and eating them. They don't look like they came straight out of a Gap ad ("Gap"? What was that? Something about a yellow raincoat?), but they were definitely some species of human being.  
  
I approached them, trying to keep a low profile, but hope had arisen in me and I made my presence known before I was ready. Before I knew it I was surrounded by them, being poked at harmlessly by the braver ones, while they muttered in a language I didn't know. They stared at me with no comprehension in their milky eyes and a chill ran down my spine. They seemed puzzled by me, unable to comprehend my true purpose. They stared as if I were some alien visitor from another planet.   
  
Maybe I am.  
  
The "men" were hopelessly primitive; not like me but unbearably similar. I'm aware of the irony. A mutant once haled as being more animal than man searches the globe for humanity. I just hope I find it soon, so that lovely Japanese woman can keep her word.  
  



End file.
